Intimacy Issues
by Mindy35
Summary: Jack/Liz. Jack has started kissing her.


Title: Intimacy Issues

Author: Mindy

Rating: K

Disclaimer: Hers.

Spoilers: Nope.

Pairing: Jack/Liz

Summary: Jack has started kissing her.

-x-

Jack's started kissing her. Her boss – well, her friend too – has started inexplicably kissing her. Pecking her lightly on the mouth in hello or goodbye. Not all the time. But randomly. And often enough to make her entire body tense whenever he enters or exits a room. He's never done it in front of her staff, thank God, or anyone who could possibly make anything of it. But that's hardly the point. It's behaviour that is not only unprecedented but peculiar. And not only is it peculiar on Jack's part – he's hardly the affectionate type and never has been -- it's extremely unsettling from her standpoint.

The first time he did it, Liz assumed it was a simple mistake. They'd planned to have dinner together but Jack was detained by some last minute business matter and she'd been too hungry to wait for him. He met her later at the restaurant where she was already halfway through her gigantic steak and the bottle of red he'd pre-ordered. In fact, her mouth was full when he came up behind her, leaned down and, she just assumed she turned her head at the wrong moment, because suddenly his lips were on hers.

"Hey," was all he said when he pulled back and took in her stunned expression. Not 'sorry' or 'oops' or whatever rich dudes say when caught in a faux pas, which is what she assumed it was.

Since then though, he's repeated the gesture a number of times. More when they are out than when they are working. But then he did it again in the elevator that morning, catching her completely off-guard. As he always did. Because she never expected Jack to kiss her. Even after he started doing it. He'd boarded just behind her and, after she leaned over to push the button for her floor and the button for his, she leant back against the wall of the elevator next to him. She didn't say anything, she wasn't even looking at him, so it's not like she did something to provoke it.

"Morning," was all he said before zooming in and planting his mouth right over hers. Her eyes stayed open, despite the kiss lasting just a fraction of a second longer than otherwise would be appropriate, even if they were on casual kissing terms, which she was not aware they were. She got a hint of his toothpaste from his lips, and he must have just licked them because they were moist. She could smell his aftershave too and, despite having just shaved, there was a definite rasp of his stubble against her upper lip. As well as the warm whisper of his breath on her cheek.

Every time this had occurred, including that morning, she'd been so dazed and confused by it that she'd never said a word. She never got to say what she wanted to say. Which was: _What the what?! _And to ask him what the hell he'd done with her ultra-repressed bestie Jack Donaghy. Because this new touchy-feely dude was freaking her out.

Which was why Liz suggested they meet at the elevator that night. She knew she couldn't get out of going with him to this art opening thingie because she'd agreed to it ages ago. But she could avoid his potential hello peck by not going up to his office, by not being alone with him in hers, or by not meeting him at the car and letting him open the door for her. Because if she did any of those things, there would be numerous opportunities for Jack to get a peck in if he chose to. Whereas, if she met him at the elevator, there was the possibility of other people being round -- which seemed to stem his new penchant somewhat. Also, they'd still be on semi-professional territory. And she'd have plenty of room to move. Run, if she needed to.

Meeting at the elevator also means that Liz sees him coming from a mile off. He can't sneak up on her or behind her or anything. She at least gets time to take a breath and compose herself as she watches Jack round the corner and head towards her. His step is easy and unhurried, his movement inherently suave and so familiar to her. He puts out both hands as he walks, sweeping them up and down in appreciation of the green dress and silver heels she chose to wear. His eyes sparkle, his lips curve as he nears her and she can't think of a better response to give but to roll her eyes.

"Well, well, well…" he muses as he reaches her.

"Hi," is her genius response.

"Hi," he echoes, but there is something weird and rumbly about his voice.

She sees him tilt forward ever so slightly and abruptly drops her purse. "I dropped my purse," she tells him before crouching to retrieve it.

"Allow me," Jack murmurs, stooping down as well, and snagging her purse before she does. He straightens and holds out a hand for her.

"I'm good…thanks," she mumbles, keeping her head bowed as she rises. She accepts her purse then takes a little step back. "So! Ready to go look at some awesome art?" she asks him with false buoyancy, hoping they've avoided the hello peck and now all she needs to worry about is the goodbye peck.

Jack looks at her oddly, then gives a nod: "As always," and presses the down button of the elevator.

There is a slight, strained silence as they both turn to face the elevator doors and wait.

Liz rocks a little on her heels. "Your thing is crooked, by the way."

"My what?"

"Your tie there," she says, peering round at him, pointing at his crisp, newly-knotted tie: "It's, ah…"

"Oh." Jack leans forward, adjusting it in the reflection of the elevator doors. Then he turns to her: "Better?"

She nods: "Uh huh," and flicks her eyes up to his.

"Thankyou," Jack smiles. Then kisses her. Because apparently now, they are doing 'thankyou' kisses too.

"Okay, alright--" she mutters, because she can no longer help it. Any more than she can help her voice rising a full octave as she demands: "_What's…with…the kissing thing_?"

Jack blinks. "Pardon?"

"The little pecks--" she huffs and taps her lips with one finger: "--right on the mouth. What _is_ that, what're you doin' there?"

Jack cocks his head, looking vaguely confused, surprised even. "Does it make you uncomfortable?"

She furrows her brow, eyes wide. "Ah, yeah, Jack, it does."

"I'm just being friendly," he tells her simply.

"Friendly," she replies: "Really? You kiss all your friends on the mouth, do you?"

"No." He shifts on his feet: "But we have known each other awhile now."

"So -- what…?" She shakes her head back and forth: "You figure this is the next logical step?"

Jack releases a breath. "You know, Lemon, it wouldn't kill you to be a little more demonstrative."

"_Excuse me_?" she baulks: "Jack, you won't even _hug_ me. You get all jumpy if I even try."

"You want to hug?" he asks, taking a step toward her: "I'll hug. Let's hug."

She pulls a face. "Cut it out."

"Come on," he insists, holding out his arms, beckoning her into them: "Let's do it. You and me. A real hug."

"No. Stop it--" she slaps at one of his hands: "You're freaking me out now."

Jack sighs as he drops his hands back to his sides. "Lemon, I realize physical contact with a heterosexual man triggers all your deep-seated intimacy issues--"

Her brows shoot up. "_My_ intimacy issues?"

"But I had hoped," Jack continues, eyeing her appraisingly: "that we'd cultivated enough trust between us for you to feel comfortable with some expression of our…unique friendship."

"Hey," she retorts, waving a finger at him: "don't make _me_ sound like the weird one here. You started this."

"And now we are fast descending into childishness."

"Oh, well, I'm _so sorry_," she mutters, overly sarcastic: "But please tell me, exactly when did we decide that we were going to _kiss each other_ in greeting? I must have missed that whole conversation or fallen asleep while you were blabbing away because I don't recall agreeing to it."

"Is it so very unpleasant?" Jack asks, steely-eyed.

"What?"

"I asked if it was so very unpleasant for you."

Liz stalls, her wrath abruptly dissipating at his part defensive, part injured demeanour. "I didn't say it was…unpleasant."

Jack draws in a breath, peers down his nose at her. "You don't like that I care about you, I'm happy to see you?"

"No, that's…nice. I guess," she answers with a shrug.

"You think it's terrible that I feel comfortable with you," he adds, and tilts his head: "that I value our closeness?"

"It's not terrible," she admits, voice growing fainter: "it isn't a bad thing..."

"So what is your objection then?" Jack asks, a distinct edge to his tone.

"I…don't know," she says, lost for words.

"You don't know?" he repeats, dubious.

She squirms under his gaze. "It's just…so weird, Jack."

He pauses. "Because I'm your boss?"

"It's not just that."

"What is it then?"

She lets out a sigh, looks at him, then away again. "Do I really have to explain?"

Jack's gaze is steady. "I think I'd like an answer, yes."

"Look--" she tells him bluntly: "don't take this personal, okay? It's just -- your mouth on my mouth – it's, well…" her eyes wander, searching for the right word: "…icky."

"Icky?"

"A little."

"Define icky."

"Oh brother."

"Alright, alright." Jack takes several steps backwards, holds both hands up in surrender. "Say no more. You don't like my mouth on your mouth. Duly noted." He punches the elevator button a few more times, gritting his teeth while he mutters under his breath: "Forgive me for putting some actual thought and effort into our relationship."

Her shoulders slump. "Augh, don't make me feel like a jerk about this. And don't _call_ it that."

Jack turns back to her, his tone imperious and acerbic: "So just for future reference, are all displays of affection off the table or should I simply consult you on a case by case basis, depending on what I'm feeling at any particular time?"

"Jack, come on…" she pouts, swiping at his arm with her hand: "Can't we just go back to being all awkward around each other whenever that stuff happens?"

"If being awkward would make you comfortable, Lemon, then by all means," he clears his throat as he pulls himself up to his full height: "let us be as awkward as we ever were."

"Yeah," she agrees with a vague nod: "Let's be awkward together."

"Well, that's settled," he replies. But there is a strange undercurrent in his voice. Something akin to disappointment or dejection. Something else lying beneath the obvious annoyance and disdain which comes so easily to him.

They turn back to the elevator doors but Jack stands a little apart from her now, his eyes cast upwards, watching the elevator ascend to their floor. The sparkle that had been in them before is buried or vanished and the lines around his mouth are stubbornly set. The silence that separates them is much, much worse.

Liz laughs weakly and comments: "It's a little…awkward now, actually."

Jack doesn't answer right away. "It is."

"In fact," she adds: "it's…_really _awkward. Isn't it?"

"…Rather."

Another long moment passes before she slides her eyes over to his face, leans a little closer. "Hey," she says softly.

Jack turns his head, only infinitesimally, peering down at her from the corners of his eyes.

"You know I…" she makes some non-descript noises, mumbles something even she doesn't understand, because maybe she doesn't quite understand what it is she feels for Jack: "…you, right?"

"You _what _me?" he asks, brows knit: "I didn't catch that."

"I…" she hesitates, shrugs a shoulder: "_blank_…you -- whatever the right word is. Like or, or love or--"

"Whole-heartedly adore?" Jack interjects, finishing for her. "Yes, Lemon, I am as aware of your esteem as I hope you are of mine."

"Good." She nods, her smile warm as she assures him: "Cos I do, Jack, I really do."

"You do what?"

"Whatever."

"Of course."

He smiles back, the sparkle returning to his eyes, though a little dimmer. "Me too, Lemon. Me too." He drops his eyes away from hers, stammers just slightly as he admits: "I was simply looking for a way for us to…acknowledge that. After all…" he turns back to the elevator, eyes returning to the numbers overhead: "what good is a feeling if it's never expressed?"

Something about this strikes Liz. Her eyes remain on his face as the silence again takes over, though less awkward now. She shuffles closer. Then puts both her hands round his arm and stretches up to kiss his cheek. She does it deliberately, making the gesture last, making it mean something. And when she pulls back, she doesn't shirk his gaze. She lets him see, if not all, then at least a fraction of whatever the feeling is that he's inspired in her over the years. The answering smile he gives her is worth any weirdness she might feel for that fleeting moment.

Finally, the elevator dings, heavy doors sliding open. Jack lifts his arm, and since her hands are still curled about it, they board together, arm in arm.

"So kisses on the cheek are fine?" he asks as they do.

She bobs her head. "That I can deal with."

"Good."

"In moderation."

"Okay."

"And given sufficient warning."

"Good Lord."

"What?" she asks as she leans over to press the button.

"Must you take the fun out of everything?" Jack asks, both humor and affection tainting his exasperation.

"Hey," she replies as the doors begin to close over: "I'm the funnest person in your life and you know it."

Jack looks down at her with a small smile. "Which is why I blank you as much as I do, Lemon."

She pats his arm warmly. "I know you do, buddy."

_END._


End file.
